Chapter 6 Vincent And Eloise

Vincent turned to look at her, surprised. He had never seen her before. She was dressed in fine clothes, so it was clear she wasn’t a worker in the house. "Hi," she said, addressing Vincent directly. "Hey," Vincent replied, his curiosity piqued. He glanced at Lola, who quickly stood up. "You can go, Lola," the girl said, dismissing her. Lola nodded and left the room without a word. "I'm Jeda. You?" the girl asked, her eyes bright and inquisitive. "Vincent," he answered, a small smile tugging at his lips as she smiled at him, making his heart race. ~~ "Jeda," Vincent grinned, but Jeda frowned as she turned to face him. "I am not happy with you," she said, her tone cold. Vincent's grin only widened. "You know that won’t last long," he teased, his confidence unwavering. "Maybe it will this time. You killed Aaron, and he was my brother," she said, her expression darkening. "Oh, come on. You didn’t like Aaron either, and besides, your father was the real cause of it. You should blame him, Je," Vincent replied nonchalantly. "Well... I didn’t like him, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "You know very soon, I'll deal with Atone too, so... it’s not a big deal, Je," he said, moving closer to her. Jeda let out a frustrated sigh but didn’t argue. "Whatever," she muttered, walking towards the couch. "Now, tell me what news you have for me?" Vincent’s smirk grew wider as he watched her. "First... why are you with Gambino's daughter?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and something else, jealousy, perhaps. "It’s all business. In no time, I’ll break her, and then Gambino will fall too," Vincent said confidently, making Jeda nod. "So she’s just going to be your plaything for now, or what?" she asked, her tone turning sharp. "Maybe," Vincent replied with a chuckle, but he noticed Jeda’s smile falter. "What a slut," she spat, her words laced with disdain. "She’s just a spoiled brat. She doesn’t throw herself at me like some of the other girls I’ve encountered," he said, trying to brush off the insult, but Jeda rolled her eyes. "Still a slut," she insisted. Vincent’s patience was wearing thin. "What news do you have for me, Je?" he asked, wanting to steer the conversation back to business. "Oh... Gambino made a deal with my father," she said, a sly grin forming on her lips. Vincent chuckled, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "What a cute man... What deal?" "Get your little pet married to my brother," Jeda replied. Vincent’s expression darkened instantly. The smile vanished from his face. "You should just kill Gambino and get this over with," Jeda added, her tone almost mocking. "Just shut up," Vincent snapped, raising his hand in irritation. "You shut up," she shot back, grabbing her bag and standing up. "You’re leaving already?" Vincent asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Yh... you are being a dickhead," Jeda said, her tone playful yet edged with a hint of frustration. "We should have a drink," Vincent suggested, a smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe stick that drink into your asshole," she shot back with a smile before turning and walking away. Vincent sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Bellamy," he called out. Bellamy quickly appeared, his expression attentive and ready for orders. "We're changing the Torture Room," Vincent stated firmly. Bellamy's face had a brief expression of concern. He hesitated before responding, "Okay, boss." Vincent noticed the hesitation and rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, just don't look at me like that," he said, trying to brush off the unspoken question. Bellamy nodded, understanding Vincent’s desire to move on. Vincent’s expression darkened slightly as he continued, "She’ll find out about the mafia life eventually, but I want her to hear it from her dad first," he said with a calculating smirk. Bellamy’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "Got it, boss." Vincent leaned back, his thoughts already turning over his next move. The game was far from over, and he intended to stay several steps ahead. ~~ Eloise waited until Vincent had left the room, the echoes of his footsteps fading away. Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced around the luxurious but suffocatingly oppressive room. The walls seemed to close in on her, and she knew she had to act quickly. She braced herself and moved toward the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the handle. She tried to turn it slowly, but it was locked tight. Panic surged through her. She had no idea where Vincent had gone, but she needed to get out of this room—no, out of the mansion entirely. She turned to the window, hoping to find an escape route, but the sight outside only added to her fear. The grounds were heavily guarded, with guards patrolling the perimeter and tall walls encircling the estate. There was no chance of slipping past them without being seen. Eloise's gaze darted around the room, searching for any possible means of escape or a tool to assist her. She noticed a small, ornate vase on a nearby table and grabbed it, hoping to use it as a weapon if needed. But as she moved back toward the door, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Her breath hitched. She had to act fast. Eloise moved to the closet and ducked inside, holding her breath. The door to the room creaked open, and she heard a few voices murmuring. The guards were checking the room, presumably ensuring that everything was secure and that Vincent’s orders were being followed. Eloise’s heart raced as she heard them moving closer, their voices growing louder. "I thought I heard something," one of the guards said. Another one replied, "Must have been a false alarm. Let’s just make sure everything is in order." Eloise remained silent, her body pressed against the cold, hard wall of the closet. Her mind raced, trying to think of another way out. She knew she couldn’t stay hidden forever. The guards would eventually leave, but she couldn’t afford to be discovered. After what felt like an eternity, the guards finally left, their footsteps receding down the hall. Eloise emerged from the closet, her heart still pounding. The idea of making a run for it seemed increasingly impossible with the level of security in place. Defeated, she slumped against the door, sliding down until she sat on the floor. Tears filled her eyes when she realized how bad things had gotten for her. The mansion was a prison, and she was trapped with no clear way out. She knew she needed to come up with a different plan as she sat there, the weight of her circumstances bearing down on her. Maybe if she could convince Vincent to reconnect her network, she might be able to contact her friends. She knew she’d have to apologize for how she’d treated them before, but what choice did she have now? Eloise’s mind raced with possibilities as she glanced at the nightstand, her eyes catching sight of a phone partially hidden beneath a stack of papers. Her breath hitched in her throat. This might be her only chance to contact the outside world, to reach someone who could help her. Without hesitating, she quickly snatched the phone and dialed Francesca’s number. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, praying that Francesca would pick up. Finally, the line connected. “Hi… who is this?” Francesca’s voice came through, hesitant and confused. Eloise let out a sigh of relief. “Francesca, It’s Eloise,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope. There was a long pause on the other end. Eloise knew she had been harsh with Francesca before, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that now. She needed help, and Francesca was her only hope. “I know I was really rude, but I really need your help,” Eloise pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation. “Need my help with what?” Francesca asked, her tone cautious but curious. Eloise opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say another word, the door to her room creaked open. Panic surged through her as she quickly hid the phone behind her back, trying to compose herself.